Soul Survivor
by Zane's Girl- Jo
Summary: She was the only one to survive on Flight 321, the plane that crashed in the Naval yard outside NCIS HQ. So when Gibbs and his team are forced to sift through the bodies and put the pieces together, Agent McGee finds himself drawn to, and falling for, the sole survivor of the doomed flight. McGiva. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Soul Survivor**

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: She was the only one to survive on Flight 321, the plane that crashed in the Naval yard outside NCIS HQ. So when Gibbs and his team are forced to sift through the bodies and put the pieces together, Agent McGee finds himself drawn to, and falling for, the sole survivor of the doomed flight. McGiva. AU. **

She leaned back, taking a deep breath. It had taken a lot for her to leave Tel Aviv and come to Washington, but she had done it. Stepped out of the death and destruction that had been her childhood, before it was too late, before it took her down with it. Sure, she hadn't been able to save Tali, but she had been able to save herself. She hadn't let her father get his clutches on her; she'd taken her mother's urgent warning and fled, leaving all she knew and loved for a life in America.

She leaned forward, looking through the window, seeing the Anacostia River stretching out before her. She hated to fly, though she had no reason to. She could see the Navy Yard, stretching out before her, and after a moment, settled back in her seat. Slowly, she reached up, grasping the Star of David she wore around her neck. Closing her eyes, she let the past carry her away.

Lighting the candles, singing the blessing, with her father by her side, as her mother, brother and sister sat across from them and watched. Racing Ari through the olive groves, pushing Tali on the swings, baking cookies with her mother, or dancing with her father to the records he used to play. Playing doctor or house with Deena, or going to the library.

All were memories of a time that was now forever left in Israel, for she had no intention to return. No, she was going to make a life here in America, make something of herself. She was going to be a force for good, not the evil her father was intent on turning her into. She wouldn't become a killer, not like Ari. Her half-brother's blood was the last she would shed.

She had only done what she thought was right. Deena was her best friend, no matter what, she had done it to protect her. And instead of gratitude, she had been shunned, turned away like a leper, accused of destroying both Deena's life and Ari's for her actions. Swallowing, she shook the thoughts away, turning instead, towards her bright, new future.

Here, she could be whatever and whoever she wanted to be. She could be free.

And she would be.

* * *

"Morning, McGee." He gave Kate Todd a small smile; the brunette was coming back from the break room, coffee in hand, as he stepped off the elevator and headed towards the bullpen.

"Morning, Kate, how was your weekend?" She shrugged, glancing at the desk directly across from where Gibbs sat. It had been two weeks since Agent Tony DiNozzo had taken a post in Rota, Spain, to head his own field team, leaving Agent McGee, a transfer from the L.A. office two years earlier, as Senior Field Agent. Kate Todd had just joined, the probie of the small team, former Secret Service, and the only female on Agent Gibbs' team. Agent Gibbs had yet to arrive, that Kate had seen. Either he wasn't here, or if he was, he was most likely skulking around the building somewhere.

"It was okay, quiet. Had lunch with my sister, caught up on my sleep. You, Tim?"

He shrugged. "Did a press release for my new book-"

"Oh, _Deep Six_? It finally came out in hardback?" Everyone at the Navy Yard knew that Tim was a best-selling author, and after a minor upset about him basing his characters off his coworkers, had come to enjoy the young agent on Gibbs' team. He nodded. "I've been waiting for it to come out in hardback for weeks! But when I went to the bookstore to pick up a copy-" She let out a very impish squeal of delight as Tim removed a copy from his bag and handed it to her.

"Being the author has its perks." He said, as she took the hardcover and opened it up, reading the autograph on the first page.

_"'Thanks for being such a great partner, Agent Thompson.'- Thom. E. Gemcity"_

He shrugged, going to the desk directly across from Kate. "Glad you like it, Kate."

"Oh, Tim! That's so sweet!" He looked up as Kate came over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to start reading it."

* * *

She took a deep breath, eyes snapping open at the feel of turbulence shaking the plane, shaking her from the last minutes of good sleep she'd gotten since deciding to flee. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back to relax as the captain's voice came over the speakers. "We have hit some light turbulence, but it should be-"

Her gaze turned to the window, eyes widening in shock as the ground suddenly came up to meet her.

* * *

It was quiet in the bullpen, Gibbs had arrived and taken a seat at his desk, leaving his two remaining agents to work in silence. They were working cold cases for the day, and so relished the silence that had become so... commonplace with Tony's leaving. Eventually, Tim got up, heading towards the break room for a cup of coffee, but something outside caught his gaze. He went to the window, catching sight of a plane, moving diagonal towards the ground outside the Navy Yard.

In the next several minutes, time seemed to stand still, and then suddenly, the plane Tim had been watching, slammed into the ground, bursting into flames and breaking apart before his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

******Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

******Thanks to Reader and JonnyP86 for reviewing 1.**

He couldn't believe his eyes, yet all he could do was drop the cup and rush towards the elevator. Kate looked up, in time to see the plane explode, and she was soon hot on Tim's heels, Gibbs following behind. Tim was the first of the NCIS agents to make it outside, and the only thing he could think, for some odd reason, as he gazed upon the carnage, the wreckage of Flight 321, was of the World Trade Center as it, engulfed in smoke and flames, imploded in on itself and soon covered downtown Manhattan in dust, debris and atomized human.

As he rushed out towards the burning, broken remnants of the plane, he was taken back to that long ago day two years ago, when he'd watched the flight he was supposed to board for California, to see his parents- Flight Eleven- slam into the North Tower. He'd overslept and missed his flight, and had spent the next twelve hours at Ground Zero, trying to help get people out. As he raced through the Naval Yard, screaming directions and orders, he could feel the heat of the flames and smell the acrid rubber that was jet fuel.

It dragged him back towards that bright Tuesday morning; he lost a cousin, trapped in Windows on the World. Two years younger than he, Taylor had been waitressing to put herself through school; she wanted to become an injury attorney, and that dream had been cruelly ripped from her as the North Tower gave way under the heat and smoke and folded upon itself. He had lost a childhood friend, aboard Flight Seventy-Seven, that slammed into the Pentagon, and another one aboard Flight Ninety-Three; it was that image, that flashed before his mind as he rushed to help.

There wasn't much anyone could do, but put out the fire and search for survivors. Magazines, carry-ons, books, glasses, all lay scattered about, melted, burning or smoldering in the ruble. As he rushed towards the burning rubble, he could only vaguely hear the shouts of his teammates, but he ignored them, green gaze scanning for the sight of anyone who survived.

As he moved closer towards the smoldering back of the plane, something caught his foot, and he turned back. It took a moment for him to decipher what was holding onto him; he could only see the blackened and broken flesh, and then he found himself staring into frightened dark eyes. "P... pl... _pleas_..." Quickly, Tim knelt down, removing what he now saw was a hand from his shoe, and reaching down to check the pulse.

Minutes passed in eerie silence around him, much like it had that bright, beautiful Tuesday morning. He'd received Taylor's last message on his cell hours later when the lines weren't jammed- he kept it on his iPod and played it on the anniversary in remembrance of her- and though he'd been able to help get other people out of the towers- as many as humanly possible- he hadn't been able to save Taylor. She had been too high up, trapped within the smoke and heat above the impact zone, and Tim had been powerless to protect her, like he'd always done.

Taylor was the reason he'd transferred from the L.A. offices to first Norfolk, and then to D.C., after a year in Virginia. If he were closer to New York and D.C., like he had been that day, then maybe he could make up for the guilt he felt at Taylor's death. He turned his gaze back to the young girl- no, the young woman- trapped beneath the wreckage. He struggled, accepting the other agents that came to help get her out; pinned beneath a portion of the plane, they worked with vigor to free her from the plane that could be her deathbed. Once she was free, Tim, who'd been gently guiding her burned, broken and damaged and strapped body from the plane- for she was still residing in the seat, like so many of them had been- he then worked to cut the straps from her small figure, before scooping her up in his arms and rushing from the crash site.

"McGee!" He looked up as Gibbs and Kate rushed to him, each from separate areas of the crash site, as they'd searched for survivors. "Oh God!" Kate quickly crossed herself as Tim tightened his hold on the girl.

"Get her to the ambulance, McGee!" But Gibbs words didn't even reach the Senior agent's ears; he'd already rushed to the waiting ambulance, handing her over.

"How can this happen, Gibbs?" Kate asked, unable to take her eyes off the carnage of the plane as it burned and died in the Navy Yard. "What would cause-"

"Any number of things, Kate." He replied, turning as Ducky joined them, having rushed back into NCIS to bring out more gurneys. The M.E. sighed.

"We shall have a full autopsy tonight, Jethro. I pray that they went quickly and felt no pain." Gibbs nodded silently and turned back, watching as Tim climbed into the ambulance and the doors shut behind him before the vehicle took off, screaming down the road.

* * *

After explaining the situation, though there was no need for it, for the EMTs had arrived not long after the crash was reported and had seen the destruction done, Tim took a seat beside the young woman, gripping her hand as they worked to save her. "You're going to be okay, I promise. You're going to make it, you hear me? You're going to be okay."

"Did you see any other survivors, Agent McGee?" He shook his head, never removing his gaze from the young woman being worked on. Her dark eyes held fear, and he tried to whisk it away with a soft smile.

"My name is Timothy McGee. I'm an agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Your plane crashed in the Navy Yard outside the NCIS Headquarters. We're taking you to Bethesda Memorial; they're going to take good care of you, okay? We're all going to take good care of you." He gave her another smile as she weakly squeezed his hand in response.


	3. Chapter 3

******Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**********Thanks to JonnyP86, Crawcolady, Sazzita, mcgeeksgirl and Reader for reviewing 2.**

He didn't let go of her hand until they rushed her into surgery. Two hours later, and Tim had made himself at home in the waiting room, trying to get the images of the plane crash out of his head. Eventually, he pulled out his headphones and stuck them in, playing music to get the sound of the jet breaking up and exploding to stop ringing in his ears. With his music on 'shuffle', he went through everything from _Nutcracker's Spanish Hot Chocolate_, to the Shakira and Selena cds his younger sister Sarah had downloaded onto it, insisting that he needed to experience other music besides the Big Band and Jazz he loved so much. He had leaned his head back, closing his eyes to catch a moment's rest, but the familiar voice in his ears caused his eyes to snap open.

Quickly, he grabbed the iPod, pulling up the title of the mp3; in block, white letters, he read the words, _Tayla's Last Message from Windows on the World_. He swallowed. He had always called his cousin Tayla- it had been a childhood nickname, stemming from Tim's toddler inability to say his baby cousin's full name. So Tayla she became.

_"Timmy, it's me, it's Taylor. Something's happened. There... there was an explosion or something in the lower floors of the tower... we can't... we can't get out of the restaurant, we can't get down the stairs, and there's a lot of smoke... God, there's so much smoke! The windows are black, Timmy! It looks like night!_ _We're... we're okay right now, but... but I'm trapped up here with a hundred other people... some people are starting to jump..."_ He heard her take a shaky breath as panic began to creep into her voice._ "Timmy, I'm so scared..."_ A moment passed as she stopped, taking a deep, breath, tears choking her words. _"Timmy, I... I know you were supposed to be on a plane out to California... I hope you made it... Oh God, Timmy, the... the floor is so hot..."_

"Agent McGee? I'm Dr. Wilcox-" He looked up, tears in his eyes as he quickly paused the recording; the voicemail went on for thirty-two minutes and twenty-four seconds, her last breath could be heard on the phone as the tower collapsed and the ceiling fell in on itself; Tim had yet to make his way through the whole message, he usually stopped after five minutes, unable to go on. He stood, pulling the headphones from his ears and stuffing the iPod into his pocket. He went to the doctor, suddenly remembering why he was at Bethesda.

"How is she?" The older man gave him a small nod, taking a seat directly across from him.

"She has extensive injuries- several cracked ribs, and third degree burns over about eighty percent of her body. There are lacerations from the crash on her chest and back, and somehow, she managed to dislocate her shoulder. We're going to take her into surgery soon, once we're done cutting the clothing from her body."

"Will she survive?" He couldn't let her die; he'd been helpless to say Taylor, he couldn't let another innocent die the way his cousin, his childhood friends had. He couldn't allow her to succumb to the same fiery death they all had. He had to make sure she survived; he had to make things right, to know that Taylor's death and his becoming a federal agent hadn't been in vain. Her surviving would give him that reassurance, that tiny light in an already dark, horrible day. Dr. Wilcox shrugged.

"Her surviving is entirely up her, Agent McGee." He sighed, reaching out to pat the agent's knee. "If she has the will to survive, then she will. I won't lie, it's going to be a long road ahead for her if she does survive, and she is going to need all the support she can get. Is there any family that we can contact?" Tim shook his head, shrugging.

"I don't know. She... she was on Flight 321, when it crashed in the Navy Yard. We don't know if she was with family or... our team is still sifting through the wreckage, pulling out the bodies. As soon as I was able to get her out, with help, I rushed her here. As of now, it looks like she may be the only survivor." The doctor nodded, swallowing.

* * *

"It's going to take all night. And it looks like all we're going to be digging out of this wreckage are bodies." Gibbs turned to Kate. The young woman tossed her head, brushing a streak of dirt off her forehead, and only succeeding in spreading it further over her face. Without a word, he went to Ducky and Palmer, who had separated the bodies and laid them out, attempting to put the pieces together.

"What do we got, Duck?" Gibbs asked, as the M.E. and his assistant turned to him.

"A mess, Jethro!" The eccentric Scotsman replied. "So far, about fifty bodies have been pulled, on a passenger jet this size, I would say it was carrying about one hundred, hundred fifty passengers and maybe six, seven crew, so... a hundred fifty-seven at most."

"How do you know it's a passenger jet, Duck?" Gibbs asked, glancing over the bodies they'd lined up- some full bodies, some only partial body parts. Both Palmer and Ducky nodded towards a nearby piece of smoldering wreckage, and Gibbs moved closer, seeing the number in black paint. Gibbs sighed, turning back to the bodies. Without another word, he returned to where Kate was sorting and logging through the wreckage.

"I don't think anyone survived, Gibbs. Not that I can see, anyway."

"There was one, Kate. That McGee took to the hospital. So there was one."


End file.
